


Skin

by insomniacjams



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: I guess it's kind of fluffy, M/M, then it just got weird, this started out as a descriptive piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-03
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 09:30:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1261402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniacjams/pseuds/insomniacjams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric and Jeff verbalise their love for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skin

**Author's Note:**

> I miss reading about this pair.   
> I love this pair.
> 
> I just wrote this for fun. I wasn't going anywhere in particular with it, but I thought I'd share it anyway. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Jeff's nails scrape against the meat of his palm, near the base of his thumb. His nails are short and sharp, chipped and dirty from his wrestling match with the gardening tools the day before. It's early; he can tell because the birds are still singing softly outside, promising the faintest hint of spring after a long and cold winter. He isn't usually awake before the birds stop singing, so he just breathes -- deep breaths, in and out -- and listens. 

The room is far from quiet; the clock ticks like a metronome in the corner, the second hand slipping around the numbers once, twice, three times -- then more, more than Jeff can count as his eyes slide shut, then open again, and he's missed a minute, or perhaps two. The heat is running, and it whirls from under the floorboards, spitting warmth into a secluded corner of the room that will eventually work its way across the floor and toward the bed. Dim light flickers in from the slight gap between the curtains, highlighting the swirling dust in the air in its own bright spotlight, like nature is trying to tell him it's time to clean.

Eric is asleep next to him, naked and sprawled out across the mattress, with his right arm nearly hanging off the bed, snuffling softly in his sleep. The blanket had slid down his shoulders at some point in the night, and Jeff pushes his nose across the pillow and closer; he tries to count the smattering of freckles across Eric's shoulders, his fingers creeping up to trace lines between them like he used to do to constellations in the sky with his sisters when he was growing up, on the camping trips he'd do anything to stay up later than the sun.

Eric makes another noise, a soft groan, and reaches an arm out to reel Jeff in close to his chest. Jeff pushes his nose into Eric's neck, pressing a soft kiss to the salty skin, pressing his teeth against the flesh, soothing it over with his tongue and repeating the process until the hint of a mark begins to blossom. There's a soft huff of breath against the top of Jeff's head, enough that it makes Jeff squirm, and giggle.

There's so much to hold on to, miles of bare skin like desert to run his hands over and caress -- there's so much to learn, as Jeff tries to touch every wrinkle and crevice on Eric's back, his fingers moving restlessly between the shoulder blades, then dipping under the blanket to slide along the spine and count the vertebrae, dipping until his index fingers meets the cleft of Eric's ass, only to slide back up the spine again.

"You can, you know," Eric says, his voice gruff and raw, interrupting the birds. "If you want." Jeff hums, a sound born from deep inside his throat. He leans against Eric and relaxes into his touch, trying to absorb the vibrations from his chest as it rises and falls in the steady rhythm that promises Jeff that he isn't nervous -- that Jeff shouldn't be nervous either.

But this is still new, and Jeff doesn't think he's very good at new. His fingers shake against Eric's back, pressing just shy of too hard against the muscles on his broad shoulders, and Eric grabs his arm, bringing his hand between them. Jeff stops touching his back, reaching for his chest instead; his fingers run faintly against the pale skin, nails scratching gently across sculpted pecs, feeling the soft hairs across the chest, so fine they're barely visible, like Eric's eyebrows.

Eric's hand is burning against Jeff's hip, warm, anchoring him onto the bed like a ship to a dock that's slowly growing familiar. The hand slides up, heating his side, making him squirm. Then it slides back down, a firm pressure that settles on his thigh, just under his butt, and Jeff can feel the flush spreading from his cheeks to his neck and chest. Eric squeezes lightly, and Jeff can feel the calluses on his fingers rub against his skin, and the pads of his fingers glide along until they're stroking lightly against the sensitive skin on the inside of his thighs. A full-body shiver slides through him like a rush of winter on a summer day; he trembles, instinctively leaning into the touch, his palms grappling at the first bit of Eric he can find, which turns out to be his shoulders. 

"Okay?" Eric asks him. Jeff can feel the rumble in Eric's chest from how close they're lying, bodies intertwined. Jeff's heart beats restlessly as he wiggles against Eric's touch, trying to urge Eric's hand further up his thigh as he slides his own hand up Eric's neck, to his cheek -- day-old stubble smattered against soft skin feels oddly intimate as he leans in, forehead first, like he's unsure if Eric will want to kiss him back. Luckily for Jeff, Eric does. 

Their lips are chapped; when they touch, Jeff hesitates, like after all this time he's still unsure if he can ask for more. Eric tucks him closer with a hand on the small of his back, tracing unseen patterns against the skin. His breath hitches and stutters; when he looks up at Eric, he sees the universe reflected in the bright, brown eyes -- the promise of life, or something like it. Eric is hard at his front, something solid, like a wall of rock, unmoving. 

Jeff pulls back. He can't stop blushing; his face is bright and out of place like a fire hydrant on a cloudy day. The heat to his face burns hotter than Eric's hands on his body, tugging him closer again, trying to keep him still -- but Jeff writhes out of his grip, and back -- back, until he's looking at Eric from an arm's length away, and poor Eric, lying there in the light of the rising sun, looks so confused, hair sleep-tousled and eyes half-lidded, his face a bit like he'd just been punched by his own teammate. 

"Eric, I-" Jeff starts, the same time Eric opens his mouth, flabbergasted.

"Jeff?"

"I just, uhm," Jeff reaches up absentmindedly to rub his own neck, eyes cast down to halfway down Eric's body where the blanket lies, twisted and angled a bit off the bed. The blanket is probably Jeff's favourite -- it's red and black, Hurricanes colours, with the smoothest texture he's ever felt on a blanket before. He grabs it, and tosses it thoughtlessly to the other side of the bed.

"What are you doing, Jeff?" Eric asks. He reaches out tentatively, afraid Jeff is going to push back -- Jeff doesn't. Instead, he leans into the touch, letting Eric gently card his fingers through the coarse hair on his head and run a finger down his face before dropping the hand away.

"I just wanted to look at you," Jeff murmurs, casually rolling across the bed again until he's tucked under Eric's chin. "I just... I wanted to touch you, but then you woke up."

"You're allowed to touch me when I'm awake," Eric drawls, looking mildly amused as he tightens his hold around Jeff. Jeff shivers; here, wrapped up in Eric's arms, he feels more relaxed than he ever did off the ice. 

"But you," Jeff starts, and then stops, bowing his head and pressing both his hands against Eric's chest. "You're looking at me now."

"Mmm, did you not want that?" Eric asks, the rumble in his chest making Jeff shiver again. Jeff's got one hand pressed right over Eric's heart -- he can hear the thump, thump, thump; steady, like the ticking of the clock on the bedroom. Jeff squirms down on the bed, and presses his ear to Eric's chest, listening to the heartbeat like it would soothe these insecurities rushing through his head.

"No," he says. "Why would you want to look at me?" His voice is quiet, muffled by Eric's body. Eric sighs, and if Jeff was a kitten, he would have been hauled up the bed by the scruff of his neck -- but no matter how often Jeff curls up on Eric's lap like a kitten, he isn't one, and it's much easier for Eric to fit his hands under Jeff's armpits and pull him back up the mattress until they're at eye level. 

The pillow feels uncomfortably rough after lying against Eric for so long, and Jeff instinctively pitches forward, trying to hide his face into Eric's neck again, but Eric isn't having any of that. "Because you're beautiful," Eric tells him, the same way he does everything else, blunt and to the point. "It's just one of the many reasons I love you." 

Jeff forgets how to breathe. 

In the half a second it takes him to remember he has to breathe to survive, his mind maps out every freckle across Eric's body, every inch of lean muscle and pale skin, every blemish and imperfection, every wrinkle, crinkle and dip in his face right down to the flutter of his eyelashes and curve of his lips, and Jeff, he just... He can't believe this is his life.

"I love you too," Jeff says, because he may be a self-conscious brat some mornings, but he's not shy -- no, he's never been shy, and now he looks right at Eric, because he has to know, there's no way Eric can't know about how much Jeff just needs him to know.

This is the first time Jeff's ever said it out loud, but he's known it for a long time. So he tilts his head up a bit, lets Eric reach out for him again, and takes a deep breath.

Eric looks at him, eyes wide with awe, as he whispers tenderly, "Jeff, can I look at you?" But he doesn't need to ask, his eyes already focused on Jeff's face, locked on Jeff's own, as Jeff shakes apart under his skin.

Eric's hand is already roaming on his side, exploring every surface of his skin, already looking with his fingers.

So Jeff just nods.

"Yes."


End file.
